


love like roses (and a hint of coffee)

by JustSomeone27



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Oneshot, amanda is literally only mentioned once, idk what to put here, my first public fanfic ;w;, rk900 is conan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-08 23:30:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15254469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSomeone27/pseuds/JustSomeone27
Summary: and like roses, their relationship grew with thornsin which, they're both stressed and RK900 likes the smell of roses and Gavin is addicted to coffee





	love like roses (and a hint of coffee)

**Author's Note:**

> probably a lot of metaphors related to roses and a bit about coffee
> 
> i used conan as the name for rk900

"How do you find roses?" Conan had been in the rose garden for who knows how long. It was probably near closing by the time Gavin passed him by. Gavin was just walking home when he saw the familiar black-and-white uniform among green and red. He had decided to approach his android investigation partner. The partner that would not leave his side until that day. He wanted to consult him about it.

He stood by bushes, walked under arcs of vines, knelt before buds and blooms, but he did not stay in one place. To frolic seems too enthusiastic for a person like him, but to scrutinize seems too indifferent. Gavin was irritated he had to follow the android around, but did not stop him—whether it was because Conan never really got to wander freely or because he likes the conversations he had with him. Intriguing, but vague in his choice of words. He has been at it for a couple of minutes now, avoiding Gavin's query about his decision and reason to stay in this particular garden.

And it obviously made Gavin confused. "There are literally lots in gardens. How else do you think—"

"I mean, detective," Conan interrupted before Gavin got to stress his question. "what do you think of them?" Gavin felt sheepish after. Who would think an android with the ability to map locations would ask an obvious question? He, apparently. His mentioned title gave him emphasis that he should have clear understanding despite ambiguous wordings if he is truly living up to his title after countless interrogations. He grumbled as complaint for the android's choice of words and for the organization (or rather, the lack of it) of his thoughts after craving coffee all day.

"I guess they're pretty," he trailed off, not knowing what else to say about the flowers that interested Conan but not himself. "How do you?"

"I cannot place myself to describe something so... _delicately_ made." Unlike the uninterested Gavin, Conan was fascinated by the beds of vibrant blossoms before him that he could not put the right word to it. He did not know why it amuses him. And amusement for Conan was a rare moment—Gavin would have filmed him staring at the roses for hours. But this was exaggeration, and Gavin knew it. Conan never talked of roses the way Gavin talks of coffee. If his statement were true, they would already have roses all around the house.

"No," Gavin frowned. "You probably could."

This made the android think. Perhaps it was not the roses that fascinated him but rather the feeling that fills his chest when the flower surrounds him. To him, the red petals that opened itself to the moonlit sky were just another organic life that attracted other beings to spread its pollen as a way to survive, like how he was programmed and designed to be in harmony with human beings as a way to accomplish his missions; in other words, nothing quite spectacular.

But those blooming crimson flowers symbolized something he could not quite name. A feeling far more beautiful than all of the earthly treasures that might be buried under the grounds he has ever stood on. Mysterious, but wonderful. The roses were a splatter of red amongst green, like blood he has analyzed over and over. Human blood, that is—like they are symbolic of something to complete his humanity. He still could not quite pin the word down.

"All roses have thorns on them, yet they're beautiful just the same."

Gavin never minded the thorns. "So are you saying that thorn's a bad thing? Or..."

"How could we pick the roses if we do not let ourselves be pricked by its thorns?" Conan smiled. He kept avoiding the questions—he knows this—but he wanted Gavin to know that scanning roses moved him to do so, that there are other appropriate questions to be answered. Gavin knows this too, and it exhausts him to think of a proper reply. He was troubled by the android's ambiguity, but he supposed that it was just how androids new to deviancy acted.

Conan's choice of words was no longer as much vague, but the way he portrayed the message was like giving riddles. Gavin asked, "What are you trying to tell me?"

Conan wanted to point out, to show Gavin, how wonderful a little rose could make one feel. He guessed that Gavin overlooked the petals and saw the thorns hiding underneath instead. He was somewhat correct.

"Truths have thorns on them as well, don't you think?"

"You see, the truth is that you're being absurd right now," Gavin said with a scoff, almost comical. "Could you cut it out with the whole bizarre act? I just want my coffee, and you're making my head hurt even more."

"You are excessively depending on coffee, and the sudden drop of consumed caffeine may be the cause of your headache," Conan's calm voice coaxed Gavin's mind as if to soothe.

Gavin curled his upper lip to one side, irritated. He was groggy, and his loathing for androids did not give any help. "It's my way of relieving stress, okay? I do not want to have anyone especially an android on my business. It's not like you feel exhaustion anyway."

 _Roses keep my stress levels at bay_ , Conan could have simply said that, yet he didn't. He did not know why but it seemed he could not relieve himself from that day's stress no matter how long he stayed at that rose garden. He pondered on it, and it stressed him even more. He felt something. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't too good either. Warmth surged—has been surging the whole day—within his chest. He thought he was malfunctioning.

The light on his temple flashed red for a brief moment. Gavin's already knitted eyebrows furrowed themselves even more, then his expression softened. He laughed.

"Why do you laugh, detective?" Conan is puzzled himself by this human behavior: laughter.

"Let me guess. Is this your way of relieving stress?" Gavin figured out Conan’s earlier statements. But even if he did, Conan felt something more, like a riddlemaster who doesn't know the answers to his own riddles.

"Yes."

Gavin narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. "Tell me, Conan," he placed a finger on the LED that was on Conan's temple, and with a flick of his wrist, gently pushed Conan's head to a tilt. "how does it feel? The stress? This relaxation?" He emphasized the last word. He cannot say he hates the android, he cannot say he likes him either. It was like deciding whether he had too much or too little coffee that day. There was nervousness and confusion.

"I..." Conan hesitated. "...do not know."

It frightened Gavin to hear Conan himself, the all-knowing all-solemn android, to say that sentence. And it frightened Conan when something is past him.

Gavin softened his eyes at the android. He sighed and gave a pat on his back. After all, Conan was still learning of new things. The touch made the warmth in Conan's chest increase, and Gavin noticed the temperature difference.

"Has Cyberlife done anything about it?"

"Days prior, my stress levels did not peak to dangerous extent," Conan paused to piece together his thoughts. "But the gradual increase started during our first investigation assignments—" He had said 'our' in a different intonation, indicating emphasis, but Gavin was too haggard to pay attention to accented pronunciations. Conan had previous assignments, but Gavin did not know this. He assumed that murder scenes stressed the android. Who wouldn't be? Gavin was already stressed enough even when his assignments were bloodless crime scenes. "—I haven't informed Cyberlife of this case."

"Well, I don't think you have to," Gavin said but was not sure himself. "I suppose it's just the murder and the mystery behind it that stress you out. Why don't you try other stress-relief methods?"

 _Mystery_ , Conan had thought. Stress is truly a mystery. It was why he preferred to stay in rose gardens. Not only did it remind him of Amanda congratulating him for a job well done, he empathized with creatures that fall victim to the thorns hidden beneath the roses. It was like a constant reminder for him that everything, no matter how beautiful or ugly, has something surprising underneath. A constant reminder that his work as an investigatory partner will have a lot of mysteries in it. It makes him stay curious to ask the right questions.

He researched for other ways to relieve stress, his LED blinking yellow which gave Gavin the idea that he is learning. Then, he opened his arms out for the detective.

"What are you doing?"

"I have searched that affection boosts our happiness levels. Not only does it lower blood pressure, it also lowers the cortisol which is the body's stress hormones."

Gavin has never showed any form of physical closeness towards anyone, most especially androids, but even a human. It torments him to think that he will ever who affection towards what he calls a 'plastic prick'. He does not allow himself to do that. "I am not going to give you a hug."

"I've also searched that it creates a social bond. This should help us connect when we work."

He felt himself slap his palm on his forehead. When he said to try other methods, he did not mean this. But he supposed that this will help the android.

He sighed and put out his hands wide in front of him. He had the awkward smile that Conan once gave him when the android was learning of facial expressions (other than perpetual anger).

Just get this over with, he thought, as Conan wrapped his arms around his back. He looked at his own hands—attempted to look at his hands anyway, since his chin was immobile against the shoulder of the tall android—and balled them into fists, pondering whether he should return the action.

He could not.

A warm sensation rummaged his chest. The android was warm against him as well unlike during listless business days when Conan felt cold with synthetic epidermis. Their hearts were beating against each other in the closeness of their chests. It was warmth he long sought for.

Conan felt the detective set his arms down and not hug back. It did not matter. Gavin went limp, sinking into this comfort without a care to do anything. Their noses were planted on the nooks of their necks. Conan tightened his grip around Gavin, afraid he would slide out of his arms. His stress levels were at risky heights at the first touch, but it toned down the moment they give into each other's contact. 

Perhaps Gavin no longer needed the coffee he always dives himself in. The embrace was enough to fill his chest with a warm feeling of satisfaction. It was much more than satisfaction. A feeling he could not quite name.

It was indulgent. He would come back for more if this ever ended. He was more than content to have his arms to support him. He enjoyed it. Forever fervid in the thrill that he will never tire of. Dependent of it.

It was delicate. Like any intervening instant could break this brittle moment. Soft, as if to say. Like froth. Not intimidating. Not overpowering. Not frightening.

It was bittersweet. There were but beautiful thoughts that filled his head and beautiful emotions that filled his chest. Similar to the flow of coffee that run down his throat, biting but soothing at the same time. It was desirable but confusing. Addicting, and that could be a bad thing. Pleasant nonetheless.

It was piercing. As if broken shards of glass. Fragile yet stunning. It punched a strong impact into his senses, kept him awake.

It was what he needed.

Gavin finally slid his hands around him, there, an ache in his heart. He pondered. His fingers felt fiery as if burnt by his touch on the android. And he pondered. It brought shame into his rationality to think he fell for him, an android. Maybe it was just his unreasonable loathing for androids that shamed him as foolish. Truly unreasonable for a man to hold grudge for something—someone—so _delicately_ created.

He laughed in his thoughts. Conan was beyond him. He was getting through to his head. It was painful for him to admit. It strikes guilt on his pride. The feelings he ignored... for an android he always wanted to shut out? It was like staring at bloodied hands, only realizing then that he has been pricked by thorns while taking a rose.

Yet he would pick roses all day for Conan, never minding the thorns.

**Author's Note:**

> i ended up making it a bit too long that it became downbeat instead of the upbeat romance type
> 
> the last part is rushed ;w;


End file.
